


Dressing Up

by telperion_15



Category: Primeval
Genre: Costumes, Desk Sex, Established Relationship, Fancy Dress Party, Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-29
Updated: 2012-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-30 07:34:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/329347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telperion_15/pseuds/telperion_15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're all dressed up - and sadly for Nick, with somewhere to go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dressing Up

Nick fiddled with his hat again, wondering for the hundredth time why he’d allowed Connor to talk him into this. It was going to be a disaster, he just knew it. And he was going to end up looking like an idiot.

Scowling at his reflection in the mirror, he reached up to remove his headgear, with the intention of flinging it across the room. He wasn’t going, he decided. The CMU Annual Staff/Student Fancy Dress Ball would just have to cope without the presence of Professor Nicholas Cutter. After all, it had been coping without him for the past decade – another year wasn’t going to make any difference.

Hearing the door to his office open, Nick resisted the urge to hide behind his desk, and instead turned to greet the entrant, who turned out to be Stephen.

His jaw almost dropped. Stephen looked amazing. Nick couldn’t remember ever seeing the other man in a tuxedo before. Something that suddenly struck him as a great pity.

“You look good,” he said, a little breathlessly. Then he frowned. “But isn’t it supposed to be fancy dress? Who are you supposed to be?”

Stephen struck a pose. “The name’s Bond. James Bond. Licence to thrill,” he drawled, in an absolutely appalling impersonation of Sean Connery.

Nick grimaced. “Why didn’t I think of that?” he muttered. “Instead of listening to Connor’s idiot suggestion.”

“Doesn’t look like such an idiot suggestion from where I’m standing,” Stephen replied, stepping closer and running a finger along the brim of the fedora still perched on Nick’s head. “Indiana Jones, I presume?”

“Yep,” confirmed Nick grumpily.

“Oh, come on, Nick, lighten up,” Stephen soothed. “Let’s try and have _some_ fun tonight, yeah? You look hot and you know it.”

“I look ridiculous,” retorted Nick, but there was no force behind the words and his eyes were twinkling.

Stephen leaned forward, pushing the hat back slightly as he kissed Nick. Nick moaned softly into the kiss, his hand tangling in the lapel of Stephen’s dinner jacket, neither of them caring that he was mussing up the costume.

“You know, we could have a lot of fun tonight without having to go to a stupid ball,” he murmured enticingly, his finger tracing a line up Stephen’s throat above the black bow tie.

Stephen shivered, and looked like he might actually be considering it, when there was a knock at the door. Stephen smirked and stepped back as Nick groaned frustratedly.

“Come in!” he called grudgingly.

The door swung open to reveal Claudia, with Abby close behind her. Nick’s bottom jaw detached from the rest of his face for the second time in five minutes. And out of the corner of his eye he could see that Stephen’s had done the same.

“Wow. You look…”

Claudia blushed slightly, while Abby just grinned.

“Thank you,” they chorused.

Claudia was dressed as Marilyn Monroe from _The Seven Year Itch_. The plunging neckline of the voluptuous white dress was a lot more daring than anything she usually wore to work, and while it was odd to see her with different coloured hair, the blond wig definitely suited her. And Abby was unmistakeably Betty Boop. A halo of jet-black curls covered her own platinum hair, and her tight black dress was so short it was almost indecent – Nick had no problems making out the black lace garter adorning her upper thigh.

He offered up silent thanks to whoever had made Claudia selflessly offer to accompany them to this shindig. God knew she didn’t have to – she had no ties to the university apart from Nick and Stephen, and Nick suspected she could quite easily have found something much better to do with her Saturday night. But she had seemed to think it might be fun – and by all appearances was certainly entering into the spirit of the thing. Still, at least it meant he would have someone sane to talk to this evening.

“Where’s Connor?” Abby was asking Stephen. “Don’t tell me he’s roped us all into this thing and then isn’t going to show.”

“Don’t worry, he’s probably just running…”

There was the sound of hurried footsteps in the corridor, and then Connor burst into the office, out of breath and flushed with exertion.

“Sorry, sorry – couldn’t find my lightsaber.”

Unsurprisingly, he was dressed as Luke Skywalker, and as he wafted the plastic weapon at them to demonstrate his point, Claudia jerked backwards slightly to avoid having her eye taken out.

“Careful,” she warned.

“Sorry,” apologised Connor again. Then his gaze lighted on Abby and his eyes widened. “Wow,” he mouthed, echoing Nick and Stephen’s earlier sentiment. “You look amazing.”

“Shut your mouth, Connor, a fly’ll get in,” Abby retorted, but she looked pleased all the same.

“So, are we going to this party or not?” Claudia asked. “No offence, but I paid enough to hire this costume that I’d quite like a few more people than just you lot to see it.”

“Yep,” Stephen replied. He checked his watch. “In fact, it’s already started. We’re going to be late.”

“Oh, what a shame,” Nick muttered, but the words were lost as he followed the others out of his office.

*   *   *   *   *

Watching Stephen…well, for lack of a better term, he’d have to call it dancing…watching Stephen dancing with yet another one of his rarely seen palaeontology students, Nick had to wonder how he did it. Oh, not the attracting women part – that bit was easy enough to work out. No, it was the miracle of movement that Nick was trying to work out. Individually, all of Stephen’s limbs seemed to be moving to a completely different beat, but when you put them all together he looked…well, kind of graceful. At any rate, something seemed to be encouraging all the girls in the room to put themselves within the radius of his flailing arms. Although maybe it wasn’t entirely down to his dancing skills…

Nick didn’t mind Stephen dancing with all and sundry. Unlike the other man, his ability to twinkle a toe or two was practically non-existent. And they both knew it. Stephen was more than happy for his feet to remain untrodden on, and Nick was more than happy to refrain from doing the treading. It was the perfect arrangement.

Unfortunately, that meant that he hadn’t been able to ask Claudia to dance either. He’d explained why, backed up vehemently by Stephen, and luckily she’d accepted the reasoning and hadn’t been offended. Instead, she’d accepted a couple of offers from other lecturers to take a turn about the floor, and had even risked life and limb to dance with Stephen for a couple of songs, returning to their table a little breathless, and with suppressed mirth dancing in her eyes. Other than that, she’d seemed perfectly happy to remain in Nick’s less active company, chatting about this and that while they watched the other dancers.

Nick was extremely grateful for her presence. Stephen was useless to talk to at parties – he was always far too busy flirting, dancing, and having a good time. That was one of the reasons Nick always tried to avoid these events – he tended to feel like he was cramping Stephen’s style, no matter how many times the other man protested that could never be the case.

Connor had hooked up with some of his geeky mates two tables over, and judging by the hand gestures and heated debate they were trying to decide which of the girls on the dance floor looked most like Princess Leia. However, Connor apparently still couldn’t help letting his gaze stray to Abby every other moment. She was sat at the same table, having discovered that one of Connor’s circle of friends was a zoology student specialising in reptiles, and was having an animated discussion with him on the subject. Although it looked like she was the one doing most of the talking. The young man looked slightly dazed by the attention, as if he couldn’t quite believe his luck, and Nick was sure that most of what Abby was saying was going straight in one ear and out the other.

His attention was distracted from the students when Stephen abruptly flopped down in the seat next to him. Nick couldn’t help but notice how he still managed to look suave and sophisticated even after three hours of enthusiastic dancing and drinking. His blood stirred.

“Bloody hell, those students sure can dance,” Stephen said. “I don’t know where they get the energy from.”

“They sleep all day so they have plenty of time to party at night,” said Claudia. She smiled. “I didn’t realise you had so many female students, Professor Cutter,” she added teasingly.

“Neither did I,” Nick muttered. “Certainly they don’t all turn up to the lectures – must be taking tips from Mr. Temple over there.”

“Actually, that last one was an archaeology student,” Stephen said to Claudia. “Not one of ours – different department. But she has a friend who’s doing palaeontology – that’s how she knew who I was.”

“Stephen, most of the female population of this campus knows who you are,” pointed out Nick. “And it’s _not_ because they have friends in the palaeontology department.”

Stephen looked faintly embarrassed by this revelation, although the effect was rather ruined by the hint of smugness around his eyes. Nick rolled his own eyes at Stephen’s dissembling, and then narrowed them as Stephen shifted in his seat, leaning towards him slightly.

“Well, _I_ have friends in the palaeontology department,” he murmured under the cover of the latest pop song. “And I feel like I’ve been neglecting them this evening.”

Nick swallowed, feeling his blood stir again in a decidedly southward direction. Glancing around, he made a show of yawning widely and stretching. “Well, I’m sure we’ve about reached the point where the students are wishing the staff would just bugger off and leave them to it, so I think I’m going to call it a night. What about you, Stephen?”

Stephen pretended to consider. “Well, much as I hate to leave all these pretty girls without a dancing partner, I think I agree with you. Time to turn in.”

Claudia looked amused, and completely unconvinced, by their display. “It is getting late,” she acknowledged with a smile. “I think I’ll call a cab.”

“One of us can drop you off,” offered Nick, feeling obliged to be chivalrous – that was, before he remembered that both he and Stephen had drunk far too much to make the suggestion a viable one.

Claudia knew it too. “It’s fine,” she replied. “I’ll just see if the others want to share.”

Nick watched her sashay over to where Abby was sitting. He saw Abby shake her head, smiling at her fellow lizard-lover before gesturing to where Connor was still involved with his mates.

“They’re going to stay and grab a taxi later,” said Claudia as she returned to their table.

“Well, we’ll at least wait with you until your cab arrives,” responded Nick.

“No, really, you don’t…”

“We’ll wait,” repeated Nick firmly, trying not smile at the faintly dismayed look on Stephen’s face.

“Okay.” Claudia gave in graciously. “Thank you.”

*   *   *   *   *

The night air was cool as Nick and Stephen walked across the campus towards the palaeontology building.

“God, I thought that cab was never going to arrive,” complained Stephen.

Nick laughed. “It took ten minutes!”

“Felt like ten years,” Stephen grumbled. Then, suddenly, he grabbed Nick’s arm, pulling him into the shadow of a tree. His lips were warm as he kissed Nick, and Nick couldn’t help the muffled gasp that escaped him as Stephen’s hand ran down his side to settle on his hip. His parted lips were only an invitation to Stephen’s tongue, and it was several seconds before Nick remembered that this probably wasn’t the best idea.

“Stephen…wait…someone might see…”

“Come on, Nick, what self-respecting student is going to be anywhere near this part of campus at this time on a Saturday night?”

“There are staff members around as well,” Nick pointed out, trying to ignore the fact that Stephen’s tongue was now lapping at the hollow of his throat. “Plus, it’s warmer inside.”

Stephen sighed irritably and stepped back. “Fine. But you’d better hustle, because I can’t wait much longer.”

After a couple of seconds of reminding his legs how to work properly, Nick hurried after Stephen, catching him up at the entrance to their building, and pushing ahead of him to unlock his office door. Stephen’s breath on the back of his neck almost made him fall through it, and he barely retained enough coordination to get him to the bottom of the short staircase. Stephen’s steadying hand on his arm abruptly turned possessive again as he hauled Nick in for another kiss, pressing him back against the desk and forcing his tongue into Nick’s mouth once more.

The fedora, which was already perching rather precariously on the back of Nick’s head, finally slid off, landing with slap on the desk. Nick resisted the urge to heave a heartfelt sigh of relief – the thing had been driving him nuts all evening, but Stephen, every time he swung past the table, had insisted he put it on, saying it ‘completed the look’.

Now, Stephen peered disappointedly over Nick’s shoulder at the abandoned hat, before leaning back and surveying Nick from head to toe.

“You know, brown leather really suits you,” he commented. “You should keep that jacket.”

“Yes, because I’m sure the hire place would just love that,” Nick responded.

Stephen’s eyes tracked lower, and then he reached out a hand to hook the bullwhip from Nick’s belt, dangling it from one finger and looking at it thoughtfully. “I could have some fun with this,” he mused.

“Stephen!” Nick was shocked, and more than a little aroused, by the turn events suddenly seemed to be taking. But Stephen just smirked and laid the whip down on the desk beside the hat.

“Another time,” he said, leaning in to capture Nick’s lips again.

This time, with Stephen plastered up against him again, Nick was suddenly aware of something hard digging into his hip.

“Is there a gun in your pocket, or are you just pleased to see me?” he joked weakly, as Stephen kissed a line down his throat.

There was a muffled chuckle, and Stephen’s hand delved into his pocket. When he pulled it out there was a tube between his fingers, and Nick tried to sound stern as he spoke.

“You bastard, you’ve been planning this all evening.”

“James Bond should be prepared for anything,” replied Stephen cheekily. “I do have a reputation to uphold, after all.”

“Er, doesn’t James Bond generally prefer the female sex?” Nick asked.

“Oh, well, in that case I’ll just go back to the party and find Abby then, shall I?” Stephen made to step away, and now it was Nick’s turn to grab his arm and drag him back.

“Oh no you don’t. Your licence to thrill is being used nowhere but here tonight, you understand?”

“Perfectly,” said Stephen. He smiled cockily. “Turn around.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“James Bond’s always the one in control. So turn around.”

Nick considered putting up more of a fight, but he was already far too aroused to make a decent effort, so he simply turned around, placing his hands on the desk and waiting.

A surprised gasp escaped his lips as Stephen’s hands suddenly slid around his waist, fiddling with the fastening on his trousers, and brushing against his cloth-covered erection in passing. He tried to thrust into Stephen’s palm, but with an admonishing chuckle Stephen pulled his hands out of reach, settling them on Nick’s hips and then unceremoniously pushing his trousers and boxers down.

The air was cool on Nick’s exposed arse, the building’s heating having long since turned itself off. There was a pause, and then the faint rustle of fabric behind him, and he turned his head to look over his shoulder, with the intention of telling Stephen to bloody well hurry up. But he hadn’t turned his neck more than ninety degrees before a hand on his cheek was pushing it firmly back again.

“So impatient,” Stephen muttered behind him, as the hand left Nick’s face to caress the curve of his buttocks. A shiver ran all the way up Nick’s body and down his arms, making him wobble slightly over the desk.

“God, I love looking at you like this – just waiting for me.” Stephen’s voice held its own shiver, and there was a scrape as he grabbed the tube off the desk.

“Stephen…” Equal amounts of irritation and arousal coloured Nick’s voice, and he wiggled his arse slightly as a form of encouragement.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be worth waiting for.” Stephen’s tone was amused. “After all, you know what they say about James Bond – nobody does it better.”

“I think Indiana Jones might beg to diff…” The retort dissolved into a low moan as Stephen suddenly slid a cool, slick finger into him.

“I said, nobody does it better,” Stephen insisted, thrusting gently and crooking his finger at just the right moment to send another shiver through Nick’s body.

“Okay, you win,” Nick agreed breathlessly, part of him disgusted at just how quickly he’d given in. But as Stephen added another finger he suddenly didn’t care any more. “Fuck me, Stephen.  _Please_.”

“Still so impatient,” Stephen scolded, but his voice was as unsteady as Nick’s now, and the reprimand didn’t come off quite as he could have wished.

The fingers were removed, and then Nick felt the blunt head of Stephen’s cock pushing into him, stretching him, the burn proving that Stephen hadn’t quite prepared him enough. But he didn’t care, and he whimpered as Stephen sheathed himself fully inside his body. The feel of fabric against his arse told him that Stephen had barely even pushed his own clothing out of the way before fucking him, and the thought of what they must look like together now – the scruffy archaeologist and the suave secret agent – sent a jolt of arousal straight to Nick’s cock. Although he would have absolutely denied it if anyone had asked.

“God, Nick, I’ll never get tired of fucking you,” Stephen ground out.

“But what about fucking Indiana Jones?” Nick asked cheekily, although all thoughts of an answer were suddenly driven out of his head when Stephen slid out of him before slamming back home again.

Nick’s hands shunted forwards across the desk by about six inches, sending a pile of paper skidding to the floor and nearly pitching him face forward on to the wooden surface. He braced his arms even as Stephen’s next thrust shoved him forward again, the cock buried inside him catching his prostate this time and almost destroying his efforts to remain upright.

“Christ, Stephen…”

It was intended as a warning, but Stephen apparently didn’t or wouldn’t hear him, and Nick could only hold on for dear life as Stephen pounded into him, each thrust nearly toppling him to the desk even as the contrary side of his brain was silently demanding _harder_ and _faster_.

And when he finally, _finally_ felt Stephen’s hand on his cock, it almost undid him. The strokes were as demanding as the thrusts, the hand just a shade too tight. And it felt so good that Nick had barely time to appreciate it, coming with a hoarse cry and spilling himself all over Stephen’s hand.

He heard Stephen groan behind him – a sound that might have been his name – and then he was coming too, fucking Nick right through his orgasm until he was panting harshly and his thrusts had slowed to a stop.

The sudden weight of Stephen lying along his back finally made Nick’s arms buckle, and only a quick arm snaking around his waist prevented them both from crashing to the desk.

“Jesus,” Stephen’s voice breathed in his ear.

“Uh-huh,” Nick agreed. He gathered his breath. “You know, if I’d realised what the rewards of dressing up like this would be, we’d have been going to that ridiculous party every year.”

“Well, it’s never too late to start,” replied Stephen. “And I can think of _lots_ of costumes that you’d look hot in.”


End file.
